Least Expected Things
by Angel Tsuiraku
Summary: Stunning news comes Quatre's way-it's either get married to a perfect stranger or lose everything he's worked so hard to obtain after the war. 4xOC. Mild swearing. Warning: LEMON! in Part 4
1. Chapter 1

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I know its been done a million times before, but I wanted to add my own twist on the 'arranged marriage' thing. I DON'T know a THING about Arabian wedding customs, so if I make a boo-boo, I'm terribly sorry, and please correct it in a review. Enjoy this! I've enjoyed writing it so far!

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is copyright its respective owners. This fic wasn't intended to infringe on those rights, and it's certainly not written for a profit. Also, the idea for Angels Inc (explained in detail later) isn't my idea. I changed the name of the company, but the details about what the company does was in a book I read…so that's not a stroke of my genius either, unfortunately. Why don't we get to the good stuff now?

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Least Expected Things

The sound of a shattering teacup sent Quatre Raberba Winner's startled secretary running into the room. Her boss, normally so coolly in control of everything, was dialing a number so hard that the secretary was surprised he hadn't broken the phone yet. He impatiently waved her away as the phone rang, a crease forming in between his eyebrows.

"I need to speak to Iria Winner," he snapped. His secretary had never seen him so furious before. She listened as Iria picked up the phone.

"This better not be some sick joke that you and my other sisters have cooked up to get me married," he growled into the receiver, paying his secretary no mind.

"What are you talking about?" Iria replied, startled at her brother's tone.

"I realize that you are upset over the rumors that the tabloid started, but I assure you that my sexual preferences run toward women. There was no need to go this far."

Iria blinked, completely confused. "I'll be down there in two minutes, Quatre." She blinked again when the other line was abruptly cut. What was going on?

By the time Iria Winner walked into her younger brother's office, Quatre had somewhat composed himself. He was sitting in his chair, situated slightly forward so that he could rest his chin on his laced fingers. His mind was far away, lost in inner turmoil over family pride and his own strict code of honor. His normally bright aquamarine blue eyes were clouded, and a frown had thinned out his lips. He looked up as she quietly closed the door.

"I have never been so disgustingly accused of something as I was today. You have some explaining to do, little brother, and that explanation had better include an apology," she said as she settled down in an overstuffed chair. The office was sparingly decorated, and it was a clearly masculine room. Little Quatre-ish objects were here and there, giving away the fact that he was there more often than not. Perhaps, she thought wryly as she studied the room and waited for her brother's response, the right woman would draw him away from this decorated prison cell.

"I do owe you an apology, and I am sorry," Quatre said finally as he rose from his chair to gracefully walk to the windows. "I had assumed that the document on the desk was a twisted prank…a scheme to get me married so that this family would have an heir and you would all finally see me settled down. However, I've made some calls and found that the document is perfectly legal." Still frowning, he turned back to her, silhouetted against the window. "And completely binding."

Iria picked up the document, scanning it. Quatre watched, icily calm, as her eyes widened. She looked up at him, startled.

"This is…I mean, Father wouldn't have been so rash…there was no need to…"

"As I've said, it's completely binding." He turned again to the spectacular view from his office windows, but Iria could tell he wasn't really absorbing the beauty before his eyes. "If this contract is not honored, and I have not married this girl in two months and at least impregnated her by my twenty-first birthday…"

"Then the company will be split between its leading competitors in gross production and that will be the end of Winner Enterprises," Iria muttered, tossing the document down.

"Oh, no…please read further…or at least look at the signatures on the bottom. Maybe you'll see, just as I've come to see, what a fool I actually am."

Iria glanced down at the signatures and her eyes went impossibly wide. "But-but…I…that's impossible."

"No, it's quite possible unfortunately. I've been duped by the man that I have considered a second father."

Iria's eyes fell back on the scribbled signature. Her fingers traced over it as she ran her other hand through her hair. The signature read _Rasid Kurama_…Captain and second-in-command of the Maganac.

*~*

"Quatre! How good it is to hear from you!" Commander Saudha-ul seemed pleasantly surprised to hear from the young man before him. Quatre managed a ghost of a smile for the chubby but cheerful commander of the Maganac corps.

"It's good to speak to you, Commander," Quatre replied politely. "I've been trying to reach Rasid for a few hours. Do you know how I can reach him?"

The older man smiled heartily. "You know Rasid and his men," he replied. "They're not happy if they're tied down to one place too long."

Quatre nodded, sighing. He'd been afraid to hear that. It meant Rasid and the other Maganac were in the desert again. They were a group of nomadic soldiers, and whenever they could they headed back out into the desolate sand to satisfy their urge to roam.

"But I'm fairly certain I can patch you through," the Commander was continuing. Quatre looked up sharply.

"That would be a great help, Commander," he said, leaning forward. After a few minutes, the older man had come through and Rasid Kurama's face appeared on the screen.

"Quatre-sama!" the tall bearded man said, his eyes glowing at the sight of the young man he considered a son. "Is everything all right?"

"You could say that, Rasid. But I need to talk to you about an agreement that you made with my father."

Rasid's eyes darkened, but he nodded. "Of course, Quatre-sama."

"The…the kidnapping was a set-up, wasn't it?" the younger man managed. Rasid sighed.

"Yes. Your father arranged it with me. He said you needed to be taught some decency. And you did," he added quietly, remembering the contempt in the eyes of the thirteen-year-old Quatre.

"I'm grateful that you arranged that meeting. What I can't understand is why you never told me about this one." Quatre held up the document, and Rasid nodded his recognition.

"At the time it seemed a good idea. But when I met you for the first time, when you were thirteen, I doubted your character. I wanted to break it off then, but you grew into a fine young man and proved to me that you had the strength of character worthy of heading your family. I was just as surprised as you when Judas betrayed us. I owe you my life. For that, I will break the contract if that is what you desire."

Quatre lowered his eyes. "It goes deeper than that now, Rasid. This is a matter of family pride." He lifted his head to look Rasid in the eyes again. "This is about honoring my father's last wish."

Rasid viewed the young man with renewed respect. "Quatre-sama," he breathed.

"Where can I reach her, Rasid?"

The older man smiled and gave Quatre the number.

"Don't be surprised," he added with a chuckle as Quatre jotted it down, "if you don't get through on the first try."

*~*

Angel Tsuiraku Kurama picked up a phone with her left hand and threw her signature on a paper with the right. After only two years she was rivaling the top producer in the universe. In a few more, she hoped to top Winner Enterprises as the leading producer on Earth and in space. No matter that the materials they produced were nowhere near related. It had become Angel's personal quest to beat out that company as CEO of her own. Angels Inc, her company, was amazingly successful. She smiled to herself proudly as she thought about it. She hung up one phone as she finished that thought, only to pick up another.

"Hey, Ace," came a cheerful voice on the other end of the phone. His thick English brogue instantly soothed her.

"Louie," she replied warmly, settling back to speak with her old friend. He'd always been her 'father' of sorts, though she knew no one would ever replace her real father.

"Have you got a minute, luv?" he asked. Angel's smile grew as she imagined the older man, leaning against a counter in his restaurant, a smile on his face as Liz flicked water at him.

"For you? Of course, Lou."

"Luv, I miss you. You've been so busy lately that we haven't seen much of you, and I know your father is away. So I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with us, luv? I've closed down the shop for the day and Liz and I are slaving away over the stove."

"Dinner at O'Malley's? Of course. What time should I be there?" she asked, making a mental note to have her secretary clear her schedule.

"Great!" She could practically hear Louie's smile. "See you at six then."

Angel hung up the phone after a couple of warm good-byes. She paused a minute, then paged her secretary.

"Lyn, sweetie, could you please clear my schedule? I've got a very special dinner date this evening."

She could hear Lyn's little noise of approval. "I see. So, who is he?"

Angel laughed. "Well, he's short, but he's attractive. He's got a mustache and twinkling eyes and a great smile. He's English."

She heard Lyn's little sigh of appreciation and beamed. "He's 49 and married, too. I'm heading to O'Malley's."

"Oh, you're talking about Louie! Geez, you had me all excited…"

Angel laughed merrily. "Sorry, Lyn."

Lyn sighed and shook her head. She knew her boss wasn't sorry at all.

*~* Two days later *~*

Quatre stretched and walked over to the small closet in his office. He kept one or two changes of clothes in there in case he got stuck at work. Undaunted by the fact that he was in his place of business, he walked into the tiny adjoining bathroom and took a shower. He hummed, towel-dried his hair, and even managed to shave before he settled back behind his desk to start another day of business. At the top of the pile were the wedding plans that Rasid and several of Quatre's own sisters were drawing up. He knew that his bride-to-be had not been informed of the wedding yet. He wondered how Rasid would break it to her…

"Quatre-sama, you asked us to draw up the names of the companies that are competing with you for highest gross production," one of his employees stated, placing the new file on his desk. Quatre nodded and picked it up. At the top of the list was Angels Inc. A slight frown crossed his face and he looked up at his employee.

"Angels Inc?" he asked.

"Angels Inc is the leading producer in baby products. It's a chain of maternity and parenting stores."

Quatre made a face, thinking of all the How-to Parent books. "I see. I've never heard of the company before."

"It's still a very young company, only two years old in fact."

"All right…well, thank you." He smiled and waved the man off, then read further into the company. _So this would be the company to get most of Winner Enterprises if I backed out of this contract._

I've worked too hard to let some baby store control 70% of the resource satellites in space.

Far too hard.

I'm the one who put this company back together! Who put this family back together!

So…I've got to…marry this girl.

Oh, Allah, please let her be like Rasid…

Then he shook his head and refused to think about it any further. He had to get back to work. There was nothing else he could do.

*~*

Lost in the desert, staring at a sky so chalk full of stars that he wondered why anyone would want to leave this serene place, Rasid Kurama worried over just how he was going to break the news to his daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

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Welcome to part 2! I really am enjoying this…it's fun to toy with the poor G-boys. In case you haven't caught the one's I've thrown at you already, there are some slight references to Quatre's Episode Zero. If you haven't read it and want to know what I'm talking about, email me at: quatresboo@hotmail.com_. I'll be happy to send you the files. And, quick reminder: I'm Arabian-marriage-custom stupid! So if I make a mistake and you catch it, tell me! Thank you._

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Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters, I just like to toy with them a bit. I'm not trying to infringe on any copyright laws, this is simply to amuse my muse, who won't leave me alone. Please enjoy, please don't sue, and let me know what you think.

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Least Expected Things

*~* One month before the wedding *~*

Angel breathed in the desert air, glancing around at the first home she'd ever known. She hadn't been back since she was five. She hadn't wanted to come back. She lifted her veil and picked up her bags with a long sigh. Her father had said it was urgent that she get there, to his camp. He said he had some kind of important news.

Had it not been for her father, Angel would never have returned. At five she knew the desert held too many things she wanted to forget. Now, at twenty, that feeling was no less vivid. Being here brought it all back. Everything. The bloodbath that night, so long ago that the memory should have faded, but Angel could never forget. The vision blazed from her memory. The vision of watching her mother and every other person in camp fall under the blades of the Alliance's Desert Elite.

Unlike the Alliance's other elite troops, the Desert Elite didn't fight in mobile suites. The rode horses, dressed in black robes and veiled their faces, and they fought with scimitars. They rode into the Maganac camp one night when Angel was two, just after the men had left to fight the Alliance elsewhere. They massacred the women and the children without mercy. No one was spared, except Angel, who'd been hiding. They had done it to stop the rebelling nomads in their tracks. But it had only made the nomads fight stronger, because they now had a personal stake in the war.

Shaking her head to clear it from the horrible memories, she stepped a little further away from the airport. Someone was supposed to be here to lead her to the Maganac's camp…where was he?

A shout made her turn her head, and all of her earlier somberness melted away. She grinned at the site of Mohammed and Abdul riding toward her on camels…and at their front was her father, Rasid. He was riding out there personally to pick her up. At the site of him, tall and proud on his camel, tears came to her eyes. She'd missed him terribly.

"Angel! Angel!" Abdul slowed his camel down and hopped off, wrapping her in a bear hug, which she eagerly returned. She had always considered Abdul to be her 'older brother' of sorts. Mohammed came next, and Angel snuggled against him as well. Finally, she turned to her father. He stared at her a minute, amazed at how she'd grown in only a few months…he felt a pang as he realized how beautiful she was getting, and that soon he would be giving her to another man. But his smile was warm and welcoming, and he scooped his daughter into his arms.

"Pop-pop!" she cried, holding him as tight as she could manage. He laughed and squeezed her, then set her back on her feet.

"Oh, Angel…" His eyes warmed. "I've missed you."

"What's the urgent news, Pop-pop?" Though Angel missed the look Abdul and Mohammed gave each other, she didn't miss the darkening of her father's eyes.

"Let's get to camp, then I'll tell you."

Angel nodded, confused. Her father re-mounted his camel, then pulled her up behind him. Abdul and Mohammed got on their camels as well. Then they were off, heading across the unforgiving sands to the small oasis the Maganac were camping at.

*~*

Work had been chaos for the past month. Quatre had been in and out of meetings and seminars the whole time, on top of having paperwork and phone calls galore. Then he'd received the message from Rasid. They were moving the wedding up. He had to be in the desert in a week and a half, and the wedding was scheduled in two.

Two weeks until he sealed his fate. He almost grinned at that. It sounded so dismal.

"Get a hold of yourself, Quatre," he muttered aloud. "It _is_ dismal." He leaned back in his chair, sighed, and ignored his phone.

"Mr. Winner," his secretary said over the intercom. "Call from Angels Inc, line 4."

_I can't miss that…_ He picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Winner. My name is Lyn. I'm returning your call."

"Yes, thank you. If it isn't too much trouble, I'd like to speak with your boss. I've only got a week and a half, so if we could schedule something before that…"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Winner, but my boss is out of town. Perhaps next month?"

"Next month?" He glanced at his schedule. "Yes, that's good. I'll be back in town by then."

"Very well. What day would you like to speak with her?"

After they'd arranged the date, Quatre thanked her and hung up. She had been charming and polite. He just hoped that her paycheck reflected her skill. Abruptly, cutting off one train of thought with another, Quatre stood.

_Better get packed, _he thought. He paged his secretary. "Cancel all my meetings and reschedule. Cancel all the calls, too, please."

"Sure, Mr. Winner."

He smiled at her brightly. "You're a doll." He paused, yanking out a pen and his checkbook. "Here's a bonus…I know you've been working hard this past month."

"M-Mr. Winner…"

He only smiled again. "Treat yourself and your husband to a nice dinner, on me."

The secretary smiled back. "Thank you!"

He walked out of the building, his mood much improved. In a two and a half weeks it would be Christmas. He'd be married in two weeks…

_Allah…I'm putting my trust in you…please let this girl be nice._

*~*

Angel had been more than a little surprised when Rasid had broken the news to her. It was, to her, horrible news. Yet even as she felt her heart splintering, she bowed her head in acceptance of his wishes. Rasid smiled softly and placed a great hand upon her head.

"I'm sure you'll learn to be happy with him. You might even fall in love with him eventually. Trust me, Angel, he's a good man."

Angel responded with a nod, her eyes still down. Then she stood, bowed, and left the tent before her tears got the better of her. She was afraid of this. Her whole life she'd been afraid of this. Of marrying a man she didn't know. Marrying a man she didn't love. Such a union often _required_ that the couple be in love, for it to work properly.

Good God, she'd have to bear the children of a stranger. She collapsed in her tent, burying her face in her pillows and trying to fight off the tears. For her family she would carry this burden.

It wasn't until the next morning that she realized she didn't even know her suitor's name…


	3. Chapter 3

I haven't scared you away yet! YAY! Well, here you are, chapter 3. This is the chapter where I'm brain-dead. This is because of my VERY limited knowledge about wedding customs in the Middle East…forgive me! Also, quick note: _There's a Scottish custom, long out-dated, in which the bride is presented before all of the guests totally nude to prove that she has no pock marks or blemishes, and that she was never beaten, underfed, or touched by another man._ That will come into play shortly. Until then, please enjoy this. Email me at: quatresboo@hotmail.com if you have any questions.

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Disclaimer: The only thing that's mine is Angel. Enjoy!

Least Expected Things

*~* The Day of the Wedding *~*

The desert wind tore at Quatre's robes as he stared at the wedding-tent. He'd yet to see his bride-to-be, though they'd both been residing in camp for at least three days together. This made in a little apprehensive. Though Abdul assured him that his bride was beautiful, Quatre was beginning to wonder why Rasid was hiding her. However, he wasn't accustomed to nomadic wedding ceremonies, and wasn't even familiar with the wedding traditions of the Middle East. Maybe it was just a tradition that he was not to see the bride before they were wed. He sincerely hoped that was all it was.

Slowly, he approached the tent, Abdul and Mohammed at his sides. They were smiling, happy, and joking together, but their merry-ness was lost on Quatre. His pushed back the folds of his turban, which was a soft blue and white pattern. His robes sported this same color scheme. Traditionally, he knew, the wedding garments were all either black or white, but Rasid had told Quatre that he wasn't going to follow _all_ of the Arabian wedding traditions. He'd even hinted about some traditions that Angel's mother, an Englishwoman, had introduced to them when she was alive.

He'd wondered what English traditions Rasid had incorporated into this wedding, but he didn't ask. Abdul had been talking about old Scottish customs—it was all very confusing.

Quatre entered the tent and his eyes widened. Inside, the tent was alive with activity, but he hardly noticed that. Before him, waiting nervously by her father for the ceremony to start, was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

She was short, very much dwarfed by her father, and very slender. The silken wedding robes, a deep midnight blue, accented her curves well—and he noticed that she had all the right curves in all the right places. Her big, bright eyes were a startling mix of midnight blue and silver. Her highlighted, soft brown hair was up in a very intricate style, and her lips glistened and were a soft pinkish-red. As he studied her, she nervously wet her lips with a cute, pointed tongue.

He blinked, surprised at his own thoughts. He looked away, shook his head, and let out a long sigh.

_Cute tongue? Geez, I'm loosing it._

But he knew he wasn't. She was gorgeous, and he found himself relaxing a bit, thinking that if they were even the slightest bit attracted to each other, it might be easier for them to get along.

He slowly walked up and joined her, his warm hand closing around hers, and Rasid smiled at them both while the ceremony started.

*~*

All throughout the ceremony, Angel had been sneaking glances at her groom. She decided that he absolutely gorgeous. He was the most perfect man she'd ever seen. His face was strong, proud, and lean. His eyes were a deep aqua blue that had the power to drown someone in their depths. He looked strong—very strong—and taller than she was by at least a whole head. His gaze met hers and she felt herself falling into those beautiful eyes…

She heard the last bit of the first part of the ceremony…but they would have to…

Her groom pulled her up from their kneeling position on the floor by their clasped hands. Then his mouth was brushing softly against hers. It only lasted a second, and Angel began to hope when he hadn't crushed his mouth against her own. However, there was no affection behind the kiss, either. Angel felt foolish for even hoping there might be. They didn't know each other, so why should there be?

She was distracted as the second phase of the ceremony took place—the feast. Piles and piles of food adorned tables that stretched across the length of the tent. The tables managed to seat all of the Maganac as well as _all_ of Quatre's sisters and their families. The women—a good majority of Quatre's sisters and Angel herself—had prepared the food, and as a result, most of the women there knew Angel well enough to start a conversation with her. Their warm smiles helped her relax, and Quatre noticed they were all thoroughly charmed by her.

What happened next was a blur. One moment, Quatre's new bride was seated beside him, and the next two men in black had lifted her from her seat. She shrieked, surprised and even scared, as they started toward the exit of the tent. Quatre stood up, alarmed, but was knocked down by two more men in black. He watched as his bride was carried away, then broke into laughter. His sisters all looked at him, startled by this.

"What happened?" Iria asked him. "What's so funny?"

"It's an old tradition," he replied, getting to his seat as the last two men disappeared. "It's carried over from ancient times…warriors would steal their brides from neighboring villages." He chuckled again. "It was always arranged, of course. She'll be taken to her tent to…" he trailed off uncomfortably. "Prepare for tonight…"

Iria smiled at him and winked. "Way to go, little brother."

A few minutes later, however, Quatre was proved wrong. The four Maganac that had snatched Angel from the table returned, and Rasid excused himself. He returned only moments later with his daughter, who was clad only in a robe. Her hair had been taken down and it hung in smooth waves down her back, and her long, full eyelashes hid her eyes.

"Quatre-sama, I now present you your bride," Rasid said. Murmurs from every table came, telling Quatre that this was the mysterious Scottish wedding custom. Rasid snapped his fingers, and Angel let the robe drop.

Gasps met this action. One or two of Quatre's sisters stood in surprise. Quatre could only glance at Rasid in his shock.

"She is free from any blemishes or marks…" he continued, meeting Quatre's gaze. A blush staining her pretty cheeks, Angel turned slowly, lifting her hair to allow Quatre to see every part of her skin.

He had to admit that she was flawless. She had creamy skin and perfect breasts. Her body was free of any hair, apart from that on her head, and she was proportioned beautifully. However, the embarrassment in her eyes made him angry. This had been unnecessary, and even cruel. The women in the tent averted their eyes, just as embarrassed as the poor girl standing before them. As soon as Angel had finished her turn, she scooped up her robe. He could tell she was fighting tears of embarrassment.

"Are you pleased, Quatre-sama."

What could he say? He nodded slowly, and Angel was led back to her tent with a few of Quatre's sisters to prepare for the night ahead. The men returned to drinking and laughing, making bets on when Quatre would produce his first heir. The groom only sipped his wine quietly and spoke in low tones to one of his sisters, trying to hide his own embarrassment.

*~*

In the bridal tent, Angel was bathing in scented water, and her silk (and very sheer, she noted) night robes were being set out. Iria, one of the sisters Quatre was closest to, smiled sympathetically at the younger girl. Iria was cleaning and priming Angel's fingernails and hair, and she could feel the girl's erratic pulse in her wrist.

"Miss Iria…" The girl's midnight blue eyes met Iria's blue ones. "Did you have an arranged marriage."

Iria sighed and pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "No. For some reason, Quatre was the only one who was married by arrangement."

Angel's lashes fell again, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "I see."

"Your family should feel honored. Obviously Father thought you worthy of continuing the Winner family."

There was no response to that. Then, quietly, Angel spoke again. "Will he hurt me?"

This startled Iria, and she glanced at Angel in surprise. "Of course not! Quatre is very gentle…why would you think that?"

The girl's eyes were sad. "Because…he doesn't want me. He doesn't love me."

"I swear my brother will be good to you," Iria said earnestly, and took a deep breath to recover from her shock.

"You'll be listening outside tonight," Angel continued, "to make sure that we consummate the marriage."

At that, Iria blushed. "Yes…"

"Abdul will be there too…he'll keep you company."

"Oh, Angel…I can't stand to see my new sister so torn up over this."

This came as a surprise to Angel. "New…sister?"

"Sure. Aren't we family now?"

"I…yes, I guess we are."

And for the first time that night, Angel smiled. Iria grinned in response.

_Allah, please let Quatre see what the rest of us do in this adorable little woman…_she thought, and finished Angel's nails.


	4. Chapter 4

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WARNING! This part is a LEMON! That means sex. You've been warned.

Ah, welcome back, honored reader. As you can see, I'm not very well-versed in the traditions of the Middle East…so I'm backing away from that a little. Besides, Angel is a very modern girl with her own _very_ successful business…so, it's not a huge part of this fic though Angel is half-Arabian and Quatre is fully Arabian.

Interesting Fact: _If you were ever wondering about how an Arabian man could be blonde, here's your answer:_

Quatre has the features of a Berber Arabian. Berber Arabians were discovered long, long ago in the northeastern mountains in the Middle East. They were blonde, with fair facial features. They were discovered by European explorers, and named Berber because of their language. While the Europeans spoke Latin, the Berbers spoke, naturally, Arabian. The name Berber derives from a Latin work that's the rough equivalent of 'bark'. The Europeans named them this, because it means 'ones who speak like dogs.' There's your history lesson for today!

Disclaimer: GW isn't mine (Dammit!) and I'm just borrowing the guys for a while for this fic…so…don't sue! GW is copyright its respective owners and creators…and there you have it. Enjoy!

Least Expected Things

Quatre entered the candle-lit and perfumed tent, his breathing coming a little harsher than normal. How was he going to drag himself out of this mess? he wondered. Outside, Abdul and Iria had taken their placed to assure that the marriage was consummated…to make sure that they…

His face flushed a little. This was going to be tough—he didn't want to scare his bride, but if they didn't consummate the marriage, than his company was going to swiftly go down the tubes.

It was then he saw her, reclining on a silk-laden bed. She looked up as he approached, her eyes full of unspoken fears and questions. The robes encasing her body looked softer than silk—where Rasid had gotten the money for all of this Quatre would never know…and then all the thoughts flew from his head when Angel smiled softly at him.

"It was a beautiful ceremony," she whispered, and Quatre returned the smile. His stumbled over a response.

"Yes, very beautiful," he agreed, reaching out to brush her cheek. Her breath caught, and for a brief moment her caught the bleak fear in her eyes before it melted away. He saw something else there, too; a strong desire to please him. It glittered there, swirling in the depths of her dark eyes. She was afraid of him, yes, but in time he knew that would melt away.

He could care for her, he decided suddenly. Maybe not love her, maybe they would never be in love, but he knew that he could care for this girl. He had resigned himself to the fact that they would probably never be in love with each other—it was a feeling he would have to live without—but they would have a strong, solid marriage.

His other hand came up and he took gentle hold of her face. His head dipped toward hers, and she stiffened as she waited for the contact of their lips. He, however, only dropped his head to her shoulder and sighed.

"Angel."

She blinked. It was the first time her groom had spoken her first name.

"Angel Winner," he repeated, trying it out. He was testing her new name for her. She let out a long breath and relaxed against him.

Then, softly, he said, "Trust me," and turned his mouth to hers. They slowly sank back onto the bed. His hands traveled over her back, looking for the strings and catches that held the silk together. He found none.

"You have to…peel it off," she murmured against his mouth, blushing.

"Mm…" was his only response as he slowly dragged the silk down her body. His tongue traced over her lips, begging for entrance. She slowly opened her mouth for him, and he took his first real taste of her.

"Quatre." His name was muffled, his lips stifling the sound from her mouth. He pulled back to look at her, and a wave of tenderness hit him. She was indeed perfect. He watched his hands slide over her skin, amazed at its silk-and-velvet texture. Compared to her attractive paleness, he seemed tan. He smiled slightly, and his hands cupped her perfect breasts. He listened with satisfaction as she let out a little gasp, then rasped his thumbs over her nipples.

"Quatre!" she managed, her eyes closed at this new and exotic feeling. Then his mouth was sliding over the smooth column of her throat, alighting sweet whimpers from her.

"Mm…you're beautiful. Allah has truly blessed me," he whispered, and then touched his tongue to one of her nipples.

Her response to that nearly drove him wild. She writhed beneath him, pressing her hips hard up against his, trying in her pleasured frenzy to get closer. She let out a soft strangled sound that went straight to his loins.

Angel decided it was all terribly romantic, having this gorgeous man kiss her, touch her in the soft candlelight, surrounded by perfumed pillows, soft satin, erotic silk, and crushed velvet.

His mouth was closing over her nipple, sucking gently, then a bit harder as she urged him on. Her fingers slid over his chest, pushing the shirt from his shoulders. Then she worked at his pants. She wasn't consciously aware of what she was doing, so deeply caught in the sensations that her mind had ceased functioning clearly. She gasped when he nipped at her, suckled her as if he was trying to taste her milk—she didn't have any yet, but she would when she had conceived their first child.

Her name came as a sigh from his mouth, and then he was sliding even lower, his fingers slipping up into her gently. She moaned, tossing her head and trying to get closer to him. She needed to be closer.

Still, he delayed, dragged it out, and his mouth finally came to rest where his fingers had been. She was sweet, God she was sweet, he thought.

"Quatre!" Her fingers tangled deep in his hair and she arched against him. "Please!"

He pulled away and slowly slid up her body.

"Are you ready?" he whispered, catching her ear between his lips.

"Yes!"

Slowly, ever so slowly, he slid deep into her.

*~*

Iria sat with a sigh, handing Abdul a cup of coffee. He looked at her dryly over the rim of his sunglasses (A/N: he never takes those things off! Even at night!).

"They've been at if for quite a while," he commented dryly. "I think I'm beginning to understand why your father had so many children." Then he blushed and tried to stammer an apology. After all, she was a _Winner_, far above such rude comments.

But, to his astonishment, Iria was cracking up, her eyes sparkling with laughter. Abdul slowly smiled, then chuckled, and finally started to laugh with her.

"Oh Abdul, all of Angel's stories about you are true," she managed through her giggles.

That stopped him from laughing very quickly. "Uh-oh…"

But Iria only looked at him and smiled. He sipped his coffee, watched her closely for a few seconds, and then stuck his tongue out at her.

His mouth dropped open when she winked, and the only thing that he could manage to think was, _what a little spitfire._


	5. Chapter 5

**__**

Author's Notes: No lemons in this part! Back to the clean stuff. Please let me know if you're enjoying this. The story will start broadening now to include more characters. Please stay tuned for more, and—as always—reviews are VERY appreciated. You can contact me about this fic or any others at **_quatresboo@hotmail.com_****_. If you like this, there are 17 of my other stories posted here on FF.net, and my friend Aisha Iwakura also has a wonderful selection of her very good fics, too!_**

Disclaimer:I don't own Gundam Wing, even though I'd love to. I'm just borrowing a few characters for my latest form of torture. W is copyrighted by its respective owners, and this is not a fic for profit (even though I could use the cash…just joking!).

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Least Expected Things

*~* Christmas *~*

Quatre rolled over and wrapped his arms around his soft, fragrant wife. He kept his eyes closed, unwilling to fully wake up. Now, caught between dreams of love and the reality of holding someone close in his arms, he could imagine that he was waking to a small Christmas celebration with a wife he adored and spoiled. He sighed though, as he opened his eyes. In his arms was a girl he barely knew, and there was no celebration waiting.

He had chosen to stay in the desert this holiday, reluctant to return to his office, which he knew would be brightly decorated. He didn't feel much like partying. Now, however, he regretted that decision. A party at the office would have been a welcome diversion from his dismal situation.

He cared for his new wife, he really did. She was warm, affectionate, and desired nothing other than to please him. She was smart, and made him laugh. But there was no love between them. He saw the despair burn in her eyes, saw the cross that hung from her neck, and knew that this marriage probably desecrated her views of marriage being a union of souls before God in the name of true love. She was, he had discovered, Catholic. She was ashamed that she had not practiced her faith more diligently, but had quietly explained that she had been kept from her Church due to certain 'duties'. She didn't say anything further.

Her religion intrigued him. Her faith in God—a God that she had no proof even existed—awed him. She remained loyal to God even though he could see the turmoil she faced every time she saw him. Quatre shook his head and sat up slightly to gaze at his wife's face.

She was beautiful. That thought crossed his mind every time he saw her. In sleep the worries and despair melted from her face, and her skin looked so soft, ever so soft…He trailed his fingers over her cheek and felt her stir.

"Mm…Good morning," she murmured, her voice still husky from sleep. He smiled gently at her.

"Good morning. Merry Christmas." He watched her eyes widen.

"That's right, it is. Merry Christmas."

Quatre watched as Angel rose from the bed, a sheet clutched modestly around her. He'd been trying to get her pregnant, to fulfill the last part of the will. He wasn't sure yet if he'd been successful, and there would be no way of knowing for another few weeks. He sighed and rolled onto his back while she dressed.

"Quatre-sama," she called softly. He looked at her.

"Hm?"

"I…have a surprise for you. If you get dressed, I'll show you."

Already mildly surprised, Quatre rose and dressed silently. He turned to her and nodded. Theirs was an interesting relationship. They hardly spoke, both content to be silent. In about a week, they would hardly see each other. His work would see to that…

Angel led him out of the camp. She brought a camel to him and then mounted her own. They made off in the coolness of pre-dawn. It would be hot later, it was already mildly warm. Quatre noted that in the back of his mind and watched his wife's bobbing back. Her hair flowed in a shining waterfall over her shoulders, and the slight breeze caught it. She was a beautiful woman, and she was very patient and kind. Quatre's mood suddenly darkened. She was also just like every other traditional, silent, beautiful Arabian woman he'd ever met. Being with her was _boring_. He wanted a wife he could talk to, a wife he could tease and laugh with. He wanted to have a loud, happy family.

We always want what we can't have, he quoted bitterly to himself, and scowled at the dunes that surrounded him.

He hardly noticed when Angel stopped and dismounted. She grabbed his hand; her eyes suddenly alight with private excitement, and pulled him past a few dunes.

She said she wanted to surprise him. Surprise was an understatement.

It was an oasis, but she had decorated it. There were Christmas lights and ornaments, a nativity scene. There were wrapped presents and bows. The water of the oasis reflected the colored lights and decorations beautifully. But what touched him the most was what stood in the middle of it all.

A Christmas tree.

He had no idea why it touched him so deeply. Maybe it was the fact that she had picked up on his secret desire to celebrate. Maybe it was the fact that she'd taken the time to set everything up. But, the thing that stood out most in his mind was the fact that she'd had a pine tree sent into the middle of nowhere, had decorated it, and then had brought him to it as a surprise.

He turned to her, and he saw the excitement and anxiety in her eyes. She wanted to celebrate too, and she wanted him to enjoy it with her. This was for them. Just them.

"I got you something," she said, and rushed to the tree. She picked up a small, delicately wrapped present and handed it to him.

"You didn't have to."

"I know. That's not why I did it. It's simply a gift." She smiled at him.

"Thank you." He stared down at it blindly, feeling suddenly guilty for not picking out a gift for her. He slowly unwrapped the present, lifted the lid, and gasped.

Inside, asleep, was a tiny little kitten. It opened one sleepy eye and peered at him. He gasped again at the shade of blue that eye was.

"Angel…thank you. I love her."

He lifted the tiny kitten from the box and pressed his nose gently into her soft fur.

"She's a runt," Angel explained. "She'll never get very big…"

"She's perfect. Thank you." He smiled at the kitten. "She reminds me of…" There was a long pause. "I know what I'll call her."

Angel waited for him to tell her, her eyes glowing with pride. She'd chosen correctly. He liked his present.

He grinned. "I'll call her Boo!" He was so busy cuddling the kitten that he missed the flash of recognition and hope in her eyes. She smiled again and brought the camels to the edge of the cool pool of water. Boo. Maybe there was something there after all…

*~*

Rasid smiled as his daughter and son-in-law returned to camp shortly after dawn. In Quatre's breast pocket was a bundle. Angel's present, he thought, and his deep laugh rumbled throughout the camp. Quatre dismounted and walked toward him.

"Merry Christmas, Rasid."

"And the same to you, Quatre-sama," he replied, laughing again as he heard loud purring coming from the younger man's shirt. "I believe you've made a friend for life."

Quatre laughed with him. The old friends walked away, talking and planning another meeting. Angel watched the two most important men in her life laughing and chatting, and felt her own lips curling into a smile. She strolled happily to her tent.

*~*

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Author's Note: I'm sorry it's so short! More next time!


	6. Chapter 6

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Author's Notes: Back on track again, and bringing Part 6, too. After FF.net being down and my creation of a brand-new arc, I've been pretty busy, but I've taken a renewed interest in this fic. So it will be continuing. Hang tight, the other characters are arriving soon!

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Least Expected Things 6

*~* One Month Later *~*

Angel was one month pregnant according to her doctor. Quatre, though he hid it well from his traditional-minded wife, was thrilled. He was finally starting the family that he'd always wanted to have. He had gone back to work…in fact, he realized quite suddenly, he had a meeting with that Angels Inc CEO.

He reached for his wife's tiny form, seeking her warmth if nothing else, and realized that she wasn't in bed with him. In fact, she wasn't in the room. After trekking downstairs in his boxers, he came to the conclusion that she wasn't even in the house. A note explained that she had gone to work as well, but she would be home to make dinner. His breakfast was on the stove, covered and warmed over low heat on the burner. Coffee was keeping warm in the embrace of its maker. Quatre unwrapped his breakfast, ate quickly, and than washed it all down with a cup of coffee. He'd gotten accustomed to eating quickly.

After showering and putting on his suite—Angel's favorite, the midnight blue one—he grabbed his briefcase and headed to the office.

"Mr. Winner, your meeting with Angels Inc is in one hour. Here are the directions. Is there anything else you need?"

"Not today, thank you." Quatre smiled at her and headed into his office to grab the notes he'd drafted for the meeting. So far, everything was normal. He absently hit the button on his answering machine and listened to his executives and competing companies, and then something unexpected (but very welcome) caught his attention. The voice on the machine was Sally Po, one of his old wartime comrades.

"Quatre, this is Sally. I hope you don't mind me calling your office, but I wanted to invite you to a reunion. It's being held at the Darlain estate tomorrow afternoon. Bring your wife! Wufei is anxious to meet her. He wants to know what woman has enough patience to deal with the 'ever working Winner,' as he put it." He could hear the smile in her voice, and he found himself grinning at the thought of Wufei sizing up Angel.

"Hope to see you there!" she concluded, and the message was cut off. Still smiling, Quatre shuffled through some paperwork and then drove to the main offices of Angels Inc.

*~*

Angel was back in her territory. One month pregnant or not, she had things to do. Including some mystery meeting that her secretary, Lyn, had scheduled just after Angel had left for the desert. Clad in a well-tailored suite, her hair done in a quick wrap that most ladies in the office marveled at (after all, for some it took hours in a beautician's chair to get the effect that Angel had achieved in ½ second), she looked like the business woman she was. And she felt normal for the first time since December. She'd been so busy trying to be Mr. Winner's perfect Arabian wife that she'd forgotten how satisfying her real work was.

_Too bad I don't know what this meeting's for…probably some competitor…or maybe a new commercial pitch? Those are fun…_

She was just reading through the latest headlines when Lyn announced that her 8 'o clock had arrived. She looked up to see her husband, Quatre walk in.

*~*

Quatre couldn't believe it was Angel sitting at the desk. She looked—well, devastatingly beautiful in the dark suite, with her hair in an adorable wrap and a pen stuck behind her ear. He saw the surprise flash through her own eyes as she saw him, and then she gestured to a chair with a different look in her eye. A pleased, predatory look. He was on her turf now, and she knew it and used it to her advantage.

"Quatre, I had no idea you were my 8 o' clock," she said pleasantly. He nodded as he sat down, stricken by the way she'd said his name. It was the first time she'd simply said, "Quatre", as opposed to Quatre-sama or the like.

"I didn't know this was your company. Quite ingenious, actually. You're the first to open a chain of baby stores in the colonies. No wonder you're doing so well," he replied. He nearly smirked at the irony of it all. If he hadn't of married Angel, she would have gotten the majority of his company. Now that he had married Angel, she still had part of it—after all, everything they owned they now shared due to their vows. Instead of voicing this, he said, "You look good."

"Thank you." The pleased gleam in her eyes intensified. "You too."

"So…well, I wanted to talk with you, since you're just about out-producing me. I was hoping you'd sign on as a partner."

"A…business partner?" Angel repeated, laughing. "What do the resource satellites have to do with baby products?"

"A lot," Quatre replied seriously. "Take plastic, for example. Lots of baby toys and materials are made out of plastic. My company has refined the process of making plastic. You'd have the finest quality products there are."

Intrigued, Angel leaned forward. "Continue."

Quatre found himself elated by the interest, laughter, and dominate look in her eyes. He continued. "We also produce many types of metal…I have shares in other companies that might help with your production line…"

As he continued, Angel smirked to herself. He was looking at her, treating her, and speaking to her with respect. A deep, powerful respect that she'd never expected to see in his eyes.

"You've convinced me," she said suddenly, cutting him off. He smiled as she plucked the pen from behind her ear. "Where do I sign?"

And, pleased, Quatre showed her.

*~*

"A reunion? Sounds like fun. Are you going?" Angel asked. They'd spent the past half-hour talking over two French Onion soups, both a little disappointed that their lunch hour was just that—an hour.

"Sure, but my friends all want to meet you, too. I'm dragging you along whether you like it or not," he added hastily.

"Oh really?" she asked, laughter making her eyes sparkle.

"Really," he replied firmly, but the smile on his face gave him away. "Dammit, stop grinning like that!"

"Did you just say 'dammit?'" she asked, feigning shock.

"So?" he shot back, and they laughed. "Will you go?" he added when they'd quieted down.

"Sure, why not. I've always wanted to meet this Duo guy you've been telling me about."

"Great, it's a date."

He watched her eyes dance when he said it. A date. They'd never been on one before. He was pleased to see she left with that bittersweet look still in her eyes a half-hour later.

*~*

Gomen! I know it's short! More after my vacation, I promise!


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